Scars from the Past
by IMTheresa
Summary: Can John help someone who has been cursed and keep Dean safe at the same time? Prepilot fic.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters and, sadly, am making no money from them._

_A/N: I wrote a short story called "The Scar" in response to a fic challenge. In that, Sam wanted to know the origins of a particular scar on Dean's shoulder. Being Dean, he didn't give Sam the real answer. I was shocked by the number of private messages I got asking for the real story so I decided to write it. This is set after Sam has been at Stanford about a year._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 1**

John Winchester was not a man to be trifled with and as he stood in the small room, staring at the man sitting in the only chair, he seemed larger than life. Dean watched his father, admiring the way he controlled the situation without effort. The other man almost melted under John's gaze and Dean was sure he was shaking.

Dean had only met this man a few times before. He was one of John's contacts, but not one that was trusted implicitly. John dealt with him only when he had to and it wasn't until Dean was older and well able to take care of himself that his dad allowed the two to be in the same room. John's younger son had never met him.

"Are you going to tell me what you want, Wally?" John asked. "Why did you want me to meet you here?"

The smaller man tried to get comfortable, but the only comfort he'd have would be when John was gone. He didn't like the hunter any more than John liked him, John had a code of ethics that Wally didn't appreciate, but sometimes dealing with him was necessary.

"A friend needs some help."

"You don't have any friends." John growled.

"You wound me." Wally said, his hand over his heart. "Look, seriously, John, someone needs help and I don't know what to do."

John sighed. He hated this man, but couldn't deny the quality of the information he'd been able to supply over the years. Whenever John needed anything from the seediest of places, Wally could deliver. He took a few steps to his right when he saw the other man was looking at his son.

"Tell me what's going on." John grumbled.

John listened as Wally laid out why he needed help. Every time Wally's eyes wandered, he cursed himself for bringing Dean with him. He had no doubt his son could fend off just about kind of attack; he'd been training Dean since he was four years old and now, at 22 he was a formidable fighter. John also knew that if Wally was stupid enough to try anything, he would be dead before he could take two full steps.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked John later. They were sitting in a bar near Pastor Jim's church, where they were planning to meet him later.

"See what I can do to help. Maybe Jim has some ideas." John said and took a sip of his beer.

Dean sat quietly, contemplating his own drink, occasionally looking at his father from the corner of his eye. He was sure even that small movement was not lost on the older man; John was eerily perceptive at times.

"Dad?" he began quietly.

When he got no prompting from John, he almost decided not to continue, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Finally, John glanced at him.

"What's the deal with Wally?"

"He's a poor excuse for a man, Son." John said simply.

"Yeah, I get that. But – I don't know, you act different around him."

John's only response was a nod and a grunt. He knew where Dean was going, but didn't want to help him get there. This was not a conversation he ever wanted to have with either of his sons.

John was a physically strong man; he had to be to fight the paranormal creatures he'd dedicated his life to destroying. He was normally able to keep his emotions in check because many of the monsters he encountered could read thoughts and fed off of strong feelings. He couldn't afford to let one of them get the better of him because he couldn't control himself.

But John Winchester had a weakness. Actually, he had two weaknesses.

Dean was four years old when Mary Winchester was ripped from the family. She woke up to the sound of six-month old Sammy coming from the baby monitor in his nursery. Tired and bleary-eyed, she made her way to the room and saw who she thought was her husband standing at the crib, but gestured away, she headed back to the comfort of her bed. That's when she heard the television downstairs and, seeing John asleep in his favorite chair, she raced back to the nursery. Her screams woke the man and he found her, impossibly pinned to the ceiling above Sammy's crib. He was stunned, but spurred into action when the ceiling around her burst into flames. His only thoughts were of getting his boys out of the house. Dean ran from his room, scared and confused as he heard his father yelling; John put the baby in his arms and told him to run.

The father took a long swallow of beer and ordered another. Dean wanted him to slow down, but knew better than to say anything. Besides, they were supposed to meet Jim soon and would be leaving the bar before John could drink much more. Growing up, the story Sam and Dean used to cover their father's long absences was that he was an alcoholic. John drank, he sometimes got drunk, but he was not an alcoholic.

"Do you know anything about curses?" Dean asked, trying to get his father's attention back.

After a pause, John nodded. "Enough to know the people who can really place them are damn dangerous. But someone needs help, so I'll see what I can do."

Dean nodded, more to himself than to John. His father was hard and tough, but always came to the aid of people who needed it. It had been that way for as long as Dean could remember, but he didn't understand until he was older that John's skills were used against things most people didn't know existed.

That's not how it always was, though. John had been just like those people; he didn't know what true evil existed in the world until it visited his house and took away his wife. Desperate for answers, knowing what he had seen was impossible, he sought help from everywhere. Finally, he found Missouri Mosley, a psychic he found in the telephone book. Unlike the charlatans he consulted before her, Missouri was the real thing. As she would explain to Dean and his brother years later, she pulled the curtain aside for him and showed him what really existed. With her guidance, as well as the guidance of those she put him in touch with, he became a remarkable hunter of the supernatural. His reputation was solid and well-earned.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"John!" Jim said warmly as his friend walked into the church office.

"How are you, Jim?" John asked as they hugged.

"I'm doing well. You?"

John nodded and took a seat. Jim turned his attention to Dean. Although they spoke often, it had been almost a year since Jim laid eyes on him. Still young, he no longer looked like a boy. Jim hugged him and they spoke a few minutes about nothing in particular. Finally the three were seated together and Jim looked at his old friend.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

Dean cringed. His younger brother always yearned for a normal life; he was a competent hunter and his research had always been without flaw, but he wanted more for himself than the life his father led. Without a word to his father or brother, Sam applied to colleges and was accepted to the prestigious Stanford University in California. Dean still didn't know the details of how he orchestrated that, but it resulted in the biggest fight he'd ever witnessed between Sam and their father. John ended up giving him an ultimatum – if he left the family, he could not return. John never expected Sam to leave, but he should have. Dean knew as soon as those words came out of his father's mouth that Sam would not back down.

Dean knew the real reason for John's anger was his concern for Sam's safety, but too many harsh words passed between the two and neither one would take them back. Independent and defiant, Sam left the next day and made his way to California alone.

The older brother learned not to bring up the subject of Sam, though John sometimes would. There was no communication between them and Sam, but more than one trip was taken to Palo Alto to watch him from the shadows and make sure the he was all right. Dean was torn; his family was all that really mattered to him and he thought he was doing what was best for Sam. Not having his baby brother in his life was heartbreaking, but Dean thought it was what Sam wanted.

John stared at his friend. "You know the answer to that."

"You're pigheaded, John. You know that?"

"So I've been told."

Jim dropped his eyes a moment later. "So you saw Wally today?"

"Yeah. He's got a _friend,_" John almost choked on the word, "who is in trouble. He's on the receiving end of a curse."

Jim sighed. "That figures. Leave it to Wally to get tangled up in black magic. Do you know this friend?"

"No. But I've heard of the witch."

"Who is it?" Jim asked curiously.

"Ellen."

Jim's eyes widened. "You can't be serious?"

Dean had been curious about John's reaction when Wally mentioned Ellen's name. His father became even more tense and Dean thought he'd seen a glint of fear in his eyes. He wanted to ask about her when they were in the bar, but decided to wait until they were with Jim so he could deflect anything Dean wasn't prepared to deal with. He loved his father, trusted him with his life, but also had a healthy dose of trepidation.

"I'm completely serious."

"Who is Ellen?" Dean asked, his eyes moving between the two older men.

John sighed and rubbed his face. Jim looked away.

"Dad?" Dean prompted.

"Ellen is a psychic. She's also skilled in black magic. Very skilled." John began. He looked at his son. "She is definitely not someone to be messed with and Wally's friend has messed with her."

"I know this is an odd question coming from me," Jim interrupted. "but this friend. Is it someone, uh, worth saving?"

John was surprised and couldn't help but smile. "You're right, _Pastor,_ that is an odd question coming from you."

"All I'm saying is, Ellen isn't someone you want to have on your bad side. If you try to help this person, that's exactly where she's going to be. Is it worth the price?"

John hadn't completely committed to Wally and wouldn't until he'd had time to check out his story, but if it was true he would take his chances with Ellen.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters and, sadly, am making no money from them._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 2**

"So what's the real story?" Jim asked John later. They were sitting in the pastor's home after dinner, having expertly kept the conversation away from Wally most of the night. Dean realized they wanted to talk without him and had gone back to the bar, hoping to earn a few dollars playing pool. "Why are you really considering helping Wally?"

John accepted another beer and paused while the other man settled himself on a chair across from him. "It's not Wally I'd be helping. His friend, and I really want to stop calling him that, is an okay guy from what I've been told. Wally is a lot of things, most of them bad, but he's the first one to admit it. When he says someone is good people, he's usually right."

"Who is this person?"

"His name is Michael Barrett. He's an attorney, works for legal aid. According to Wally, he does a lot of good work for the community."

Jim looked thoughtful. "And Wally knows him?"

"Barrett is his stepbrother and apparently he ran afoul of Ellen in a very normal way. She owns an apartment building and he represented her tenants. Seems Ellen is a bit of a slum lord."

Jim rolled his eyes, incredulous. "Wouldn't you know it? So she cursed him because of that?"

John nodded. "It's going to cost her about $30,000 to do all the work the court is requiring her to do."

"What kind of curse?"

"Wally didn't know. And I guess Barrett didn't even realize he was cursed at first. He told Wally about a series of unfortunate things that happened; cases he'd lost that should have gone his way, a small car accident, a flood in his bathroom. But when Barrett ended up in the hospital with something the doctors couldn't diagnose, Wally started to do some digging and he found Ellen."

"You're going to check out that story, right?"

"You know me well enough to know the answer to that."

"And you're going to keep Dean out of it."

John noticed that wasn't a question. He nodded. "I don't want Dean anywhere near Ellen. I shouldn't have even taken him with me when I met Wally."

Jim watched as John's face clouded. He didn't know all of the history between John and Wally, but he knew enough of it to know better than to ask too many questions.

"So assuming the story checks out, what do you plan to do?"

"We both know the best way to break a curse is for the person who threw it to take it off."

"Oh. So you'll ask Ellen to join you for a High Tea and you'll politely ask her to remove the curse. That's an excellent plan, John. Well done."

John recognized his friend's tirade as sarcasm and wanted to disarm him before it got out of control. "You know I don't drink tea."

Jim couldn't help but laugh. "All right. So what will you do?"

"I don't know yet. But do you have a job we could send Dean to handle? Something small, preferably close by?"

OOOOOOOOOOO

John lay awake that night thinking about the situation at hand. Wally couldn't be trusted unless something was being held over his head, but wouldn't have come to John without a good reason. On the surface, the story about his stepbrother was a good reason. Jim was going to make a few calls the next day and John would do his own fact checking. Assuming everything was true, and Michael Barrett was an innocent person in need of help, John would figure out some way to do it. But it would be without Dean's assistance. As he told Jim, he shouldn't have taken his son with him for the meeting with Wally and wouldn't risk him interacting with Ellen.

He met Ellen only once, but her reputation was prevalent in the John's social and business circles. They knew many of the same people, but John normally dealt with the paranormal, not the mystical. He hunted ghosts, demons, all creatures that eventually turned into urban legends, but under normal circumstances, he stayed away from witchcraft. Witches were just people, many with bad attitudes to be sure, but John had a special set of skills that he used to his fullest advantage.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John let Dean sleep in the next morning. He heard his son come in sometime after two o'clock and normally wouldn't have let that be an excuse for sleeping away the day, but he wanted time to check out Wally's story. He was afraid if he let Dean become any more a part of this than he already was, it would be too hard to detract him from the job. Jim didn't have anywhere else to send him at the moment, so John thought it was safest just to let him sleep.

Between Jim's phone calls and John's own investigation, it was determined that Wally's story was true. After calling him to commit his services, John went to visit Michael Barrett. He'd been taken to the hospital over a week ago, doubled over in pain. The first assumption was appendicitis, but when that turned out not to be the case, the doctor ordered tests that turned into other tests. Some days were better than others, but most were filled with pain that didn't point to any particular medical condition.

John parked on the street outside of Jim's house and sat back in the seat for a moment before heading to the front door. He'd been gone all day and knew Dean would be disappointed to have been left out of the investigation. Ever since Sam left, just over a year ago now, Dean was even more determined to work with his father and learn everything the older man could teach him. He was always fiercely loyal to John and that only amplified with it being just the two of them.

There were other cars on the street and John didn't give them more than a cursory glance as he trudged up the walkway, but he was immediately angry when he opened the front door and saw Wally sitting with his back to him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he bellowed, seeing Dean sitting on the couch across from him.

Wally jumped up, his hands up defensively. "I just wanted to talk to you, man."

"You have my cell phone number. Why didn't you call?" John placed himself between Wally and Dean. The action was not lost on his son, who was also now standing. "Where's Jim?"

"He's over at the church." Dean said. "Dad --?"

"Dean, why don't you leave us alone to talk?" Dean rarely heard his father suggest anything; if he wasn't looking for Dean's opinion, the older man was issuing orders. He stood, looking confused for a moment, before slowly leaving the room. He stood just inside the kitchen where he could still hear everything.

"I've told you before, Wally, I don't want you near my sons."

Wally, a good five inches shorter than John and without the muscle mass, backed away. "Come on, man, Dean is grown up. Besides, I didn't do anything to him."

John glared at him, but Wally broke into a grin. "How's that other boy of yours doing, anyway?"

"Why are you here? I already told you I'd help your brother."

Wally moved further away from the larger man. "I know. He called me a little while ago and said you'd been to see him. I just wanted to thank you in person. I know you and I have our issues –"

"And you know why we have those issues. If you want me to keep helping you, you'll stay away from my son."

Dean listened from the kitchen, wondering what he didn't know about Wally.

OOOOOOOOOOO

When Jim returned from the church later, John was gone. After watching Wally leave, he spoke with Dean for a few minutes before heading to the library to research his options. Dean wanted to go, he wanted to ask his father a million questions, but in the end he was the obedient son and did as he was told.

Jim watched Dean and his younger brother grow up. He felt as close to them as he would his own children, if he had any. Sometimes John and the boys lived close to Jim and other times the boys were left with him for weeks while John went off on a hunt.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked when he joined Dean in the back yard.

Dean looked around. This was the only real home Dean could remember. The places he lived with his father and brother were just that; places. Jim's house always felt comfortable. It always felt safe.

"Jim," Dean paused. "What do you know about Wally?"

Jim sat down heavily. "You know you should be having this conversation with your father."

Dean looked at him disbelieving. "You're joking, right?"

Jim smiled. "Sorry, I lost my head."

They sat quietly for a few minutes while Jim gathered his thoughts. Dean recognized the expression on his face and was patient.

"Dean, you know your dad is a complicated man. He keeps a lot inside. I don't know the whole story, but I do know that Wally can be bad news."

"I know that. So why does Dad even talk to the guy?"

"Because of the information Wally provides. He doesn't need his brand of information often, but when he does –" Jim shrugged.

"I heard them talking earlier."

"You were eavesdropping?"

Dean looked guilty for a moment. "Maybe."

"What did you hear?" Jim asked, smiling.

"Dad told him to stay away from me, but I can take care of myself."

"Your dad knows that, Dean. But Wally – he's not a good guy."

"I get that. I've heard that over and over. But why, Jim? What has he done? And why doesn't Dad want him near me?"

Jim was about to say something when he was interrupted by John's low voice. "What's going on out here?"

"We're just talking." Jim said, looking at John pointedly.

"What about?" John asked, taking one of the remaining empty chairs.

"You know what?" Jim stood up. "I took some steaks out to thaw earlier. Why don't I get the grill ready and we'll have some dinner."

Dean and John watched him walk away.

"Dad –"

John looked straight ahead. "What do you know about Wally?"

"Not much. I'd hear you and Jim and Caleb talking about him when I was little. You mentioned him sometimes. I guess I met him only a few years ago." Dean watched his father's face. His jaw was set and the vein on his neck throbbed. That was a sure sign that he was angry, but Dean didn't understand why.

He rarely saw his father this way anymore. Sometimes, when he and Sam were younger, one of them would so something that made John incredibly angry and he would react this way. He would be stoic, measuring every word, lest he lash out. In many ways he was more like a drill sergeant than a father, but every now and then Dean could see the two sides of him struggle for control.

"I met Wally a long time ago. You were about six and we were living near a park, about an hour from here. I'd been out on a hunt for a couple of days. I left you here with Jim and we'd just gotten home, but you begged me to let you go play on the swings. Sammy was asleep, but you were restless, so I bundled you both up and we went to the park. I only turned away for a minute –" John closed his eyes at the memory and Dean was suddenly cold. John only got this way when he was talking about Mary; Dean had never seen his father act this way any other time and it scared him.

John continued, his eyes open but unfocused. "Sammy had been asleep next to me on the bench and you were swinging – he woke up and I turned my attention to him. It wasn't that long, but when I glanced back toward you, the swing was empty. I heard you yelling and found you behind the bathrooms – you were with Wally."

"I don't remember that." Dean said quietly.

"He was a maintenance man at the park; swore he'd seen you wandering off and was only trying to make sure you were okay." John seemed to snap out of his reverie and he looked at Dean. "Wally is a waste of skin, but he's got necessary connections. I made sure you were safe and made sure other children would be, too."

Dean stared at his father.

"You were okay and I didn't let you near him again until I knew you could handle yourself." John wouldn't look at him. "But even now it makes me sick to see you in a room with him."

The young man didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure he completely understood what his father just told him, but knew better than to question him. He also wasn't sure he really wanted the answers. Later, in the bedroom he would share with his brother when they stayed with Jim, Dean thought about what his father said. He couldn't remember that day; nothing at all sounded familiar. If something more had happened… Dean often wished Sam was there so they could talk, but tonight he missed his brother more than normal.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters and, sadly, am making no money from them._

_Thanks for the feedback so far. No one likes Wally... awww... poor Wally. LOL._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 3**

"You've got to find a job for Dean." John said to Jim. "I have to get him out of here."

"John, he's fine –"

"I know he's fine. I know he can take care of himself. But _I_ need him out of here."

"John, at the risk of really pissing you off," Jim paused. "this job – are you sure you should be working it? Wally drives you crazy, you hate dealing with black magic –"

"Someone needs help. Help that I can give. You know I can't turn my back on that."

"What if I find someone else?"

John shook his head. "Just find a job for Dean; get him out of here for a few days."

OOOOOOOOOOO

The next morning, Wally called to say Michael Barrett had been moved to the ICU and was now on a respirator. John was worried; time was running out and he hadn't found a way to break the curse. Another witch could remove it, but his conversations with other witches would end as soon as Ellen's name was mentioned. No one wanted to interfere with something she created, not even the more upstanding practioners of the black arts.

Since the court delivered its decision about her building, Ellen had been laying low and not even Wally and his degenerate contacts had been able to find her. There were rumors, but nothing panned out.

John still harassed Jim to find something for Dean that would get him out of town for a few days. Dean fully accepted whatever reason John gave him when he'd turn down offers of help; he was the perfect soldier because he didn't question John's orders. Still, though, it was bothering the man.

To help keep him out of the way, Jim put him to work. There was a secret room at the church where he stored weapons and reference materials; he asked Dean to inspect all of the weapons, clean them and make any necessary repairs. It was something Jim had been meaning to do for a while, but he hadn't made time for it. Dean recognized the task for what it was, but he did it without complaint.

Dean hadn't tried to talk to John about Wally any more after his father revealed their true first meeting though he still couldn't help but think there something John wasn't telling him. He searched his memory for anything that might shed light on the truth, but he came up with nothing. In reality, he wasn't sure he wanted to remember anything else and that was what kept him from talking to Jim again.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Two days later, Jim found a job that John felt comfortable letting Dean tackle alone. As much as the father wanted his son away from this case, he didn't want to put the boy in a situation he wasn't ready to handle. It was a simple haunting, probably a poltergeist, in a town four hours away. While it would require some research, it wouldn't keep him gone for long. John was grateful for the timing, though, because just that morning he heard a rumor about Ellen's location that proved to be accurate. He had complete trust in his son's skills and abilities, but he had reasons for wanting to keep Dean away from her, as well.

OOOOOOOOOOO

In the morning, Dean drove away with mixed emotions. He hoped his father would call in backup for his meeting with Ellen, but Dean didn't hold out a lot of hope for that. On the other hand, he was glad to be doing something useful and pleased his father trusted him enough to send him off on a job alone. He knew the reason behind it, but he decided not to concentrate on that.

He would be at his destination by twelve; the owners of the house were expecting him to stop by in the afternoon. After talking with them, he'd determine what kind of research needed to be done and hopefully be able to complete the job in just a few days. He didn't count on the car breaking down two hours out of town.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John walked into the apartment, various weapons and talismans hidden on his body. It was barely light enough for him to see; Ellen had all of the curtains closed and the only light was coming from candles burning throughout the room. She closed the door behind him, smiling in welcome.

"To what do I owe the honor of a visit by the great John Winchester?" she purred.

Ellen was tall, nearly as tall as John, but very slim. She was probably in her 50's, but looked much older. Dressed all in black, she had long silver hair that hung in waves over her shoulders. John smiled coldly. "I don't really have to tell you that, do I? You must know I've been looking for you and you must have wanted me to find you, or I wouldn't be here."

She smiled and sat down in one of two wing-back chairs. "Have a seat."

John sat across from her in the matching chair.

"You're right," she began. "I did know you were looking for me, although I'm not sure why. We don't generally have intersecting paths."

"I'm here to talk to you about Michael Barrett."

A cold smile played on her lips. "Really."

"I want to negotiate with you. What will it take for you to lift the curse?"

She laughed, though there was no humor in it. "What could you possibly have to offer me?"

"Don't underestimate me."

"I imagine you've tried to life the curse yourself."

"I've investigated various avenues."

"You don't have the ability." she said, looking at him critically. "You have many abilities, but not that one. Interesting. What is your interest in Michael Barrett?"

"No personal interest. I've only met the man once." John said conversationally. "But I'm told he does good work for the community."

She laughed. "So what I've heard is true. You _are_ a Boy Scout."

John found himself smiling. "Where have you heard that I'm a Boy Scout?"

"Here and there." she waved her hand. "He's going to cost me a lot of money."

"You have a lot of money, from what I hear. Besides, he was only trying to help the people that live in your building. Interesting choice to go after the attorney, by the way."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled again. "You assume that's all I have in mind."

"Let's just deal with one thing at a time, all right?" John suggested. "What will it take for you to release Barrett?"

"How did you even find out about this?" she asked.

John sighed, he was becoming annoyed although he hadn't expected the talk to go smoothly.

"Friend of a – of an acquaintance." John said.

"More like stepbrother of an acquaintance."

John didn't show his surprise.

"You have quite a reputation, Mr. Winchester. I'm sure it's well earned." she shifted in the chair. "But sometimes it's easy to overlook things. Perhaps you've done that here."

"You're not going to deny having placed the curse, are you?"

"Absolutely not." she laughed. "But perhaps the _reason_ I did it isn't as cut and dry as you think."

"I'm not sure I'm really interested in the reason." John said, not letting his uncertainty show through.

She looked at him. "Maybe you should be."

"Let's cut to the chase, here, shall we?"

"No, I don't think so." she looked at him, candle flames reflected in her bright eyes. "There's more going on here than you know. Until you figure it out, you can't negotiate in any meaningful way. I'll see you out now."

John didn't appreciate the cloak and dagger conversation, nor did he appreciate being dismissed. He wasn't used to not being in charge of a situation and he didn't like the feeling that, despite his careful investigation, he had missed something important. Even though he didn't really have a choice, he walked toward the door willingly. Ellen stood in the hallway as he waited for the elevator.

"Mr. Winchester," she called lightly. "Do say hello to your son, Dean, for me."

John felt cold as the elevator doors slid shut.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters and, sadly, am making no money from them._

_Thanks for the feedback. Seems to be not a lot of love for Wally out there._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 4**

John was walking toward his car outside of Ellen's apartment building when his cell phone rang.

"Hey, Dad." Dean said when his father answered.

John felt his heart quicken when he heard his son's voice and was mildly annoyed that he let Ellen get to him. "Things going okay?"

"Actually, no. I stopped for gas and now the car won't start. A mechanic is looking at it; I couldn't find anything wrong."

John glanced back toward the apartment building. When he saw Ellen standing in the window, he continued around the corner. "Are you all right?"

Dean thought he heard more concern in his father's voice than the situation warranted. "Yeah, just irritated. I talked to the Carters and told them I'd be late. Dad, I'm sorry."

"There's no need to be sorry, Dean. You had no control over the car breaking down. How far did you get?"

"A couple of hours out of town. I got enough information from Mr. Carter to get started on some research. There's a library here."

"Good thinking, Son."

"How are things there? Did you meet with Ellen?"

"Yeah, I'm just leaving there now. It looks like I have a little more digging to do." John paused. "Dean, watch your back, okay?"

"I always do." Dean said, noting again what he thought was unnecessary concern in his father's voice. "Is there something going on?"

"I'm dealing with a powerful witch here. I just want you to be careful."

"I will. You, too."

"Call me in a couple hours, okay? Give me an update."

"Okay."

"Two hours, Dean."

"Yes, Sir. Two hours."

After hanging up with Dean, John called Jim and told him about the meeting with Ellen. He also voiced his concern that they had missed something in their investigation.

"I'm going to Wally's."

"Let me go with you."

"That's not necessary."

"John –"

"It's fine, Jim. I'll see you later." he hung up before Jim could say anything else.

John knocked on Wally's apartment door, but didn't wait for an answer before kicking it open. Wally wasn't there and John wasn't entirely surprised to see that his clothes were gone from the closet. He slammed his hand against the wall and a string of profanities escaped his mouth.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John paced inside Jim's living room, trying to sort things out. What he knew about Michael Barrett was true, but now he believed Barrett was just a pawn in a much bigger game. Ellen had cursed him, but not because the successfully represented tenants in a building she owned. It made John sick to think that he was even a bigger pawn in the game – Ellen wanted him for something; wanted to punish him for some injustice she thought he was responsible for.

While Jim made phone calls, John forced himself to calm down and think logically. With a cup of coffee in front of him, he searched his journal for something he might have forgotten.

"Anything?" Jim asked later as he sat next to his friend.

John ran a hand over his face. "No."

"So where does that leave us?"

John sat back in his chair and sighed. "We still have an innocent man with a curse on him and his supposedly caring stepbrother has skipped town. You find out anything?"

Jim shook his head. "No. No one has seen or heard from him for the last few weeks, but everyone is looking out for him now. He won't be able to hide for long."

"Unless Ellen is helping him."

"Tell me about the last time you saw her."

"I only met her once; about five years ago. I was working a job a few hours away and stopped here to drop off the boys."

"What was the job?"

"Some idiot conjured the spirit of his dead grandfather and lost control of it. Turns out the guy had murdered a few people while he was alive and his spirit missed the action."

"She have anything to do with it?"

John nodded. "Ellen gave him the spell to do it and gave him some remedial training. It was just a paying job for her though, nothing she took personally."

"Are you sure?"

John looked at him, then glanced at his watch. "Dean should have called by now."

Jim handed him the telephone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"I'm going to see the witch."

"John, wait." Jim grabbed his arm.

John glared at the other man.

"You have to be smart about this. There could be a logical reason Dean hasn't called. You got his voice mail – maybe he doesn't have reception."

"He'd call from a pay phone. Have you ever known him not to get in touch when he knew I was expecting him to?"

Jim let go of John's arm and shook his head. "No, but what good will it do to confront Ellen? She'll just lie to you, or bait you. Maybe it would be more productive to go look for Dean."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean opened his eyes, his head pounding. There was almost complete darkness around him; he was quiet and still as he waited for his eyes to adjust. His hands were tied behind his back and his feet were bound together; he felt like he was on a concrete floor. He heard no sound other than his own breathing, and when his eyes became used to the blackness that surrounded him, he confirmed he was alone. The room was small and the only light coming in was from the crack in what appeared to be a door.

Fighting panic, Dean tried to remember how he got here. He remembered leaving the car at the service station where he had stopped for gas. He remembered speaking to one of the family members he was supposed to meet that afternoon to say he would be late. He also remembered talking to his father – he was supposed to call John two hours later with an update on the car. He wondered how much time had passed and if John was looking for him yet.

The pain in his head was almost unbearable. With his hands tied, he couldn't check for injuries. As best he could tell, everything still worked. He didn't know if there had been a struggle; he had been on his way to the library, but he didn't remember anything after ending the call with his father.

Dean struggled against his bonds, but the effort made the pain in his head worse and he thought he might throw up. He forced himself to breath as he lay calmly against the cool concrete around him. He didn't know how he was going to get himself out of this.

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters and, sadly, am making no money from them._

_A/N: It's not a long chapter, but hopefully it will keep you satisfied until the next one is ready. It's close… _

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 5**

His eyes opened, he had no idea how long later, and Dean assumed he must have passed out again. The pain in his head was still there, but didn't seem as bad. There was still a small amount of light coming in through the doors, and he was still bound. This time, though, he could hear muffled voices.

Dean worked himself into a sitting position, his arms and legs crying out in protest. The pain in his head intensified, but it was nowhere near as bad as before. He watched the door, not knowing what he was going to do if it opened. He was a skilled fighter, but being tied up would put him at a distinct disadvantage.

"You're awake."

Dean looked toward the door as an older woman walked in. He hadn't even heard her unlock or open it. Suddenly, she was just there. He glared at her.

She smiled. "You look very much like your father right now. He has a nice smile, but he has so little to smile about."

"What do you know about my father?" he demanded.

"I know more about your father than you do, pup." she said, her eyes a piercing gaze. A moment later, she was smiling again. "You're probably wondering what you're doing here."

Dean said nothing.

"Your father will no doubt come looking for you, but he won't find you. At least not right away." She glanced behind her as Wally approached. Dean realized who she must be. "You've met Wally."

Wally stood just behind her and smiled at Dean.

"He's going to take you out of here and keep an eye on you for a while. I have other matters to attend to." she started to walk out of the room, but turned back to Dean. "Don't get any ideas about escaping."

Before Dean could react, she held out her hand and blew a white powder into his face. His eyes burned and everything around him became blurry. He saw Wally approaching as the room went black.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John easily found the service station where Dean left his car. He talked to the mechanic, who told him he'd found nothing wrong with the car and that it was working perfectly now. He had expected Dean to check in with him over two hours ago, but hadn't seen him. The last he knew, Dean was going to the library.

John walked the two blocks that Dean would have taken and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He searched the small library and found nothing; the librarian had not seen Dean.

OOOOOOOOOOO

When Dean woke up again, he was on a single bed in an otherwise unfurnished room. His arms and legs were no longer bound, but they felt heavy and he could barely move. The pain in his head was back and his vision wasn't quite clear. He thought once he had a few minutes to collect himself, he would be able to get away from his captors and contact his father. He had no idea how much time passed since he'd called John; it could have been hours or days.

Dean sat up slowly, testing his mobility and assessing any injuries. Convinced there was nothing more wrong than stiffness, he took in his surroundings. Across the room, there was one window and it was covered with a thick curtain that allowed little light in. After carefully making his way to the opposite wall, he moved the curtain aside and saw the window was barred. Outside he could see only trees and from the position of the sun, he judged it was late afternoon.

The door looked the same as in the cheap apartments and motels he'd grown up in, except for the deadbolt lock. Even if he had access to tools, the lock appeared solid. He strained to hear any sound on the other side, but it was quiet. He wasn't surprised when the door didn't open. Frustrated, and a little dizzy, he returned to the bed. It was a twin bed, covered in a thin blanket with a sheet underneath. The pillow was flat.

Dean leaned forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He felt sick, the pain in his head making him nauseous. He knew he wasn't going to have a chance at escape until the door opened, but he didn't think he was physically ready to even attempt it right now.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John stood outside of the library, considering his options. He'd called Dean's cell phone countless times and, knowing it was fruitless, dialed the number again. While he listened to the ringing, he walked down the street. He wandered into a small diner and closed his cell phone when he got Dean's voicemail. He'd already left one angry and one concerned message.

There were only ten tables in the diner; all of them empty. The counter held six stools and they were all empty as well. A woman who was probably in her 50's stood behind the counter; she smiled brightly as John approached.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"I was supposed to meet my son – I was wondering if you'd seen him." John said, ready to give her a description.

"Sorry, I've only had my regulars in today." she said.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since about six this morning. The other waitress called in sick, so I'll be here until we close tonight."

"No one else works here?"

"Just Barney, the cook." hearing his name, Barney approached the bar that separated the dining area from the kitchen. "Hey, Barney, you see any out-of-towners in here today?"

The young man shook his head. "I've been back here all day. I ain't seen no one but you."

"Maybe there's another place in town?" John suggested.

The woman shook her head. "It's a small town. Other than the diner here, there's only a family restaurant. They're only open for dinner."

John nodded. "Thanks."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean tensed as he heard a key being inserted into the lock. He sat straight, wishing there was something he could use as a weapon.

"Well." Wally smiled as he opened the door. "Nice to see you awake. Hungry?"

Dean only stared at him.

"Afraid I'll drug you?" Wally grinned. "I don't have to. You can't get out of here."

Dean assessed the situation. He was bigger than Wally, certainly stronger and better trained. The only wildcard was that he didn't know if he could actually make it across the room. He'd never felt quite this way before; his head was swimming and his vision moved in and out of focus.

"Ellen said I should keep you company until she comes back for you."

Dean had a sudden flash of a memory; something in Wally's words seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite grasp the complete thought. He watched as Wally walked further into the room, carrying a large leather case that he set down next to the door as it closed. Under normal circumstances, Wally would have been no match for Dean, but it was as if he had a physical reaction to the man. The closer he got, the more weak and nauseated Dean felt. He tried to push the feelings aside and rush the smaller man, but almost before he could move, Wally somehow had him handcuffed to the bed. Dean thought he was going to pass out again, but his vision cleared somewhat when Wally turned his attention to the case he'd left by the door.

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not gettin' paid for this._

_A/N: There's nothing too graphic in this chapter, but it's not happy times. Thanks for sticking with me; let me know what you think! _

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 6**

John walked through the small town, stopping people on the street to ask if they had seen his son. No one had. He wandered in and out of the few businesses, asking the same question, but he came up empty. He briefly considered talking to the sheriff, but that could cause more problems than it would solve, so he discounted that idea for now.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean struggled with the handcuffs, but there was no way to get out of them. He watched as Wally rummaged in the case and tried not to react when he turned back to the bed holding a scalpel.

"Dude, Wally," he said with more confidence than he felt. "What do you think you're doing?"

Wally smiled coldly. "I told you. Ellen said I should keep you company."

"No VCR? There are some movies I've been wanting to see."

Wally laughed, turning the weapon so it glittered in the dim light. Dean watched, panic starting to build. His mind whirled, trying in vain to figure a way out of the room. Wally put the scalpel on the floor, out of Dean's reach but well within his line of sight.

"You know," Wally said as he turned back to the leather case. "Your father has caused me a lot of trouble over the years. He thinks he knows so much about me. He doesn't know anything. He uses my information, but looks at me like I'm worse than the dirt on his shoe."

"That's what this is about?" Dean said, trying to keep his voice light. "Come on, Dude."

Wally glanced at him. "Damn Winchesters."

"How did you get Ellen to work with you?" Dean asked. He didn't believe that Wally was in charge of the operation, but thought if he could somehow stroke Wally's ego it would help his situation.

Wally turned back to Dean; he was holding a large candle and a lighter.

"Let's start small, shall we?"

OOOOOOOOOOO

John leaned against his car, waiting for Jim to answer his phone. He was just about to hang up when the other man answered.

"It's me." John said.

"Have you found him?"

"No. It's like he's dropped off the face of the earth. Do you have anything?"

"I called Caleb; he's on his way here. Other than that? Nothing."

"Jim – " John paused. "My son--."

"I know, John, I know. We'll find him."

John ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath. "Okay. I don't think he's here, but I'm not ready to leave yet. I'm going to do some more looking. I'll call in an hour."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean groaned as he rolled over onto his side. Wally had gotten bored with the flame quickly, but not before he'd left a fairly substantial burn on Dean's shoulder. He didn't know where Wally had wandered off to, and Dean wished his head would clear long enough to figure out how to outsmart him.

Wally had used the scalpel to cut away Dean's shirt and it lay in tatters across the room. He had hoped Wally would leave it within his reach, but he put it back into the leather case along with the candle and lighter once he was done with them. Still handcuffed to the bed, there was no way for him to escape the prison he found himself in.

He didn't think the objective was to kill him. For some reason, Ellen was using him to get to his father and he would have to be alive for that to work. As he drifted back into unconsciousness, he wondered where Ellen had gone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Caleb, thanks for coming." John said later. He'd given up his search in the small town; he even went so far as to go against his instincts and contact the sheriff. Caleb was a fellow hunter and someone John trusted implicitly.

"You know I'm here whenever you need me. Shit, man, what did you do to Ellen?"

John shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm not so sure it matters. And if she has my boy, she'll be in touch."

"You'd think she'd have been in touch by now." Jim said as he joined his friends in the living room. "It's been hours."

As if on cue, John's cell phone rang. He glanced at his friends before answering it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, John. How are you?" Ellen said lightly. "You've done some driving today, haven't you?"

"Where is he?" John asked angrily.

"Watch your tone, John." she said seriously. "You might offend me."

"I'm going to do more than offend you if you hurt my son."

Ellen laughed. "You'll get him back when I'm done with him."

"What do you want?"

"Many things, really. That's why I'm not working alone."

"You count Wally as not working alone?"

"Of course not. The man is an idiot, but he has some useful… talents."

"Who, then?"

"That isn't important right now."

"Look, this is between you and me. Tell me where to meet you and we'll just handle this in person. Leave my son out of it."

"Oh John!" she laughed. "I do so enjoy talking to you. And maybe we will meet in person, but not just yet."

"Why did you call?"

"Mainly just to rub it in. In fact, that's the only reason I called." she laughed again. "We'll talk again soon."

She hung up before John could say anything else. He closed his cell phone and threw it across the room, onto the couch. After taking a few moments to collect himself, he relayed the conversation to his friends.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Hi."

Dean didn't bother opening his eyes. Wally had been back to the room twice since burning him and each time he left, Dean had another injury. He wasn't sure what hurt the most – the handcuffs cutting into his wrists, the pain from the burn, the sting of the cut on his leg from the broken glass or the headache and nausea he felt whenever Wally was in the room.

In addition to the physical pain Wally caused, he also taunted Dean. He questioned John's commitment to his sons, referenced Sam leaving the family and not caring about Dean and made inappropriate jokes about Mary dying at the hands of something evil. Dean tried not to listen; tried not to let Wally's words bother him, but he wasn't completely successful. Already insecure about Sam's reasons for leaving and blaming himself, it had left a huge hole in him. Wally's words easily found their way into the wound.

Dean didn't doubt his father's love for him, but sometimes he lost track of it. He had no idea how long he'd been held captive and in a weakened physical state, it was easy to fall into a well of self-pity. He just wanted the pain to stop and he didn't think it would until John found him.

Wally dropped a slice of bread on Dean's exposed chest. "Just in case you're hungry."

Dean ignored him.

"Ellen should be back soon." Wally said. "I'm not sure what she has in mind for you, then."

Wally shook his arm. "Are you asleep?"

Dean slowly opened his eyes and glared at him. Wally grinned.

"So do you think your father is looking for you?" he asked conversationally.

Dean said nothing.

Wally leaned against the closed door. "He's not going to find you here. But don't worry, because we're not going to kill you. That's not our job."

He knelt in front of the case. "Like I said, Ellen will be back soon. She's been making preparations –"

Wally stopped speaking when he heard Ellen calling his name. He sighed. "Damn. I wasn't done yet."

A moment later the door opened and Ellen stood just outside the room.

"I see you've kept yourself busy." she said, looking at Dean. "It doesn't look like you hurt him too badly."

Wally smiled at her.

"Get him ready. We're taking him home."

Wally looked at her. "What?"

"You heard me. He wants us to take him home."

"He –"

She glared at Wally. "Yes. _He_. Now do it."

"Uh – Ellen – wait – " Wally stuttered as Ellen started to walk away.

She turned back to face him. "What?"

"The powder?"

"He doesn't look like he's capable of hurting a flea." she smiled coldly. "Or didn't you do your job as well as you should have?"

"I did my job." Wally said defensively. "But you know those Winchesters –"

"Fine." Ellen approached Dean. She blew white power in his face and, just like before, he felt the darkness overtake him yet again.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters and, sadly, am making no money from them._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 7**

"I don't understand why we're taking him back." Wally complained as he climbed into the black van.

"It's not for you to understand. _He_ wants the boy to go back home."

"We go through all the trouble to take him and we're just going to give him back? What was the point?"

Ellen stared out of the side window. She was just as confused and irritated as Wally, but she wasn't about to let him see that. They were working for someone else, someone with an agenda _he_ wasn't willing to share. It was clear to her now that the point of the exercise was simply to hurt John, but she didn't understand the whole game and that bothered her. _He_ recruited her based on her skills and her reputation. She'd had a run-in with John years before, but it was so insignificant to her that she barely remembered it until she was reminded.

It was _his_ suggestion to enlist Wally. She didn't know the history at the time, but after a little research and some conversations with Wally, she understood the choice. There were many people that John Winchester didn't like, but Wally was near the top of the list. She knew about their first meeting – Wally had, indeed, been a maintenance man at the park, but he didn't see the young Dean wander away from the swing while his father's attention was diverted. Dean saw Wally playing with a puppy near the wooden building that housed the bathrooms. Being a normal six year old, he was curious about the dog and wanted to play as well. He knew better than to go anywhere without asking his father's permission, but he could still see John and that's all the further his young logic needed to go. Of course, he hadn't counted on Wally grabbing him and carrying him behind the building.

Ellen didn't know what Wally had in mind for Dean that day. She didn't want to know. As black and cold as her heart was, there were things that even she found unacceptable. She didn't like Wally much either, but it wasn't her choice. _He_ had a plan and she had signed on to perform whatever duties were assigned. She didn't have any particular problem with John. She did believe him to be a Boy Scout, always working to help innocent people and trying to destroy every evil thing he could, but she had no real reason for wanting to hurt him. At first, she agreed to help _him_ because it seemed an interesting way to pass some time. Now she wasn't sure she would be allowed to stop, even if she wanted to. She would never admit it, not even to herself, but she might have made a mistake getting involved with _him._

It was after midnight when the black van pulled up in front of the church where Jim officiated. Ellen wondered what John and the preacher had been doing since her phone call. Obviously they would be trying to find Dean, but she knew their search would be fruitless. Once they'd taken him from the sidewalk outside the library, they headed east for fifty miles on the highway and another fifteen miles on a gravel road through a heavily wooded area. _He_ gave them directions to the deserted cabin; Ellen wasn't even entirely sure what town is would be considered a part of because there was nothing close by.

"We are to leave him outside the back door. I'll call John in ten minutes to let him know where to find the boy. I'll be in touch with your payment." Ellen said before she opened the van door. They had discussed this before, but she wanted to make sure he understood. She looked at him. "You only have about ten minutes. If John is nearby when he gets my phone call --"

Wally nodded, his eyes glistening.

Ellen turned and walked away.

Wally drove to the delivery entrance behind the church. He managed to carry the unconscious Dean to the door, then returned to the van to search his leather bag.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"He can't just have disappeared." John grumbled. He and Caleb had exhausted nearly every possibility and there was still no sign of Dean. In addition to going over every piece of information they had, Caleb called some of his contacts who had psychic abilities. So far none of them had come up with anything new, but there was still a chance.

"He didn't." Caleb said. "We'll find him."

"It's been hours, Caleb. He's been in Ellen's clutches for hours." John paced angrily. "And with Wally's stuff gone from his apartment, I can only assume that he's working with her. Fucking Wally of all people! I never should have brought Dean here when I knew I'd be seeing that freak. I should never have trusted him; should never have believed him."

"John –"

"Don't try to placate me, Caleb. There's nothing you can say that's going to help right now."

They turned as Jim walked into the room.

"Sam is fine." he announced. "He was suspicious about me calling, but he's fine."

John sighed and rubbed his face. "That's something."

"Did you call the sheriff?" Jim asked.

"Yeah." John said, leaning against the fireplace mantle. "No one saw anything. In a small town where everyone knows everyone's business, no one saw anything. There are no clues, nothing to go on. The mechanic still has his car – that's the only evidence he was even in that damn town."

Jim and Caleb exchanged a look. They'd both seen John angry before. They'd both seen him at the end of his rope. But they had never seen him quite this way. From the outside it might have looked like the only thing John cared about was vengeance against whatever had killed his wife, but his best friends knew there was more to him than that. They knew that, despite outward appearances, nothing meant more to him than his children. They didn't agree with the way he raised them – there was too much military discipline and not enough compassion – but neither one doubted his love for the boys.

Over the years they had tried to convince him to act more like a father than a drill sergeant, but John was stubborn. He insisted that the boys had to be tough; they had to be well trained to protect themselves from the evil that was attracted to them. It wasn't just that they knew about the paranormal, John was convinced that whatever came to their house the night that Mary died left a mark that other creatures could find, or maybe, that mark was already there and that's how it found them originally. Either way, he had to make sure his boys were ready to defend themselves.

"I'm tired of standing around talking." John said, pounding his hands against the mantel. "I'm going back to Ellen's. Maybe we missed something."

As he was headed toward the door, John's cell phone rang. He grabbed it. "Hello?"

"Hello, John."

"Unless you're going to tell me where my son is, we have nothing to talk about."

"Fancy that." Ellen purred. "I called to tell you where your son is."

John was taken aback. "What?"

"He's at the church. The delivery entrance in the back."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because we're done with him." Ellen hung up.

John felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. He closed his phone, racing toward the door.

"John!" Caleb called after him.

"Dean's at the church." he yelled.

Caleb and Jim looked at each other, then chased after John. The church was only a few blocks away from the house and John ran the entire distance without even thinking about it. He saw the nondescript van pulling out of the alley, but he was more concerned with getting to the delivery entrance. He stopped short when he saw his son. He saw Dean lying on the ground, curled into a ball. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his jeans were torn.

Jim caught up to him and gently touched John's arm. After only a moment of hesitation, John moved forward. He slowly knelt down next to his son, reaching out with a shaky hand to feel for a pulse. He'd seen blood before, lots of it. But not on one of his children. Of course they'd gotten hurt, but John had never thought…

"Dean." he whispered to his unconscious son, finding a weak pulse. "Dean –"

Jim knelt beside his friend. "Is he --?"

"He's alive." John reached for his cell phone. Jim saw him struggling with the buttons and took the phone from him. After calling for an ambulance, he turned his attention back to the Winchesters. John was normally very good in a crisis; he kept his head and did all the right things, but he was frozen. Jim examined Dean as best he could.

As a siren could be heard in the distance, Caleb made his way to the delivery entrance.

"The van that was pulling out of the alley –" he stopped, taking in the scene before him. "Oh no."

"The van?" John prompted, his voice sounding far away even to himself.

"Yeah." Caleb joined his friends. "Wally was driving it."

"Wally." John repeated.

The ambulance was there a few minutes later.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Wally parked the van outside a busy store. He grabbed the leather case from the passenger seat and reached behind the driver seat for Dean's shirt. He stuffed it into the bag and made his way to the car he'd parked in the lot the previous day. He wanted to be as far away from John Winchester as he could get.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John paced in the hospital waiting room, Jim watching him closely. His anger was just below the surface; the concern for his son winning out at the moment. Caleb was out recruiting help and looking for Wally. A doctor came from the examination room what seemed like hours later. He explained that while Dean suffered from many injuries, none of them were life-threatening. He would be cleaned up and admitted to a room for observation, but would probably be released the next day. In addition to burns, cuts, and bruises from what he guessed was handcuffs, the doctor told John about punctures all over Dean's body and a broken finger on his left hand. John was relieved to hear that Dean had regained consciousness.

"I'm going to spend time with my son tonight." he said to Jim. "Tomorrow I'm going to kill Wally."

"John –"

John held up a hand.

Jim sighed. "Go see your son."

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not gettin' paid for this._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 8**

Dean's eyes were closed when John slowly pushed open the door. He stood across the room, watching him and afraid of what would happen when his son's eyes opened. John didn't let things scare him. He had a healthy respect for a lot of things, but he didn't let them scare him. But as he approached the bed, he felt an unfamiliar pang that he recognized as fear.

Dean moaned and turned his head to the side spurring John to his bed in only a couple of steps. He put his hand on his son's arm, but removed it when Dean flinched.

"It's Dad, Son." John took stock of the various bandages and uncovered wounds on Dean's skin. He could only imagine what the hospital gown was hiding. He gently put his hand back on Dean's arm. This time Dean was still, but his eyes remained closed.

"Are you awake?" John waited a moment for an answer, then moved a chair closer to the bed and sat down. He kept physical contact with Dean.

Dean kept his eyes closed; hoping John would think he was sleeping. He didn't want to talk, but he hoped his father didn't leave. He replayed the hours he spent handcuffed to the bed over and over; knowing there had to have been some way out. There must have been something he missed. He was afraid John would be disappointed in him and that thought hurt almost more than the physical injuries he sustained.

Despite the pain medication he was given, his shoulder hurt. He had heard the doctor say he had a third degree burn but, luckily, it was on over a small area and wouldn't require skin grafts. He silently took an inventory of the other injuries he could feel. He almost wanted to ask for more pain medication, but thought that maybe the pain would make him sharper; better for the next time. Maybe he would remember the agony he felt now and not let the same thing happen again.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean had no way of knowing how much time passed, but he thought he might have fallen asleep. He opened his eyes slowly and saw John dozing in a chair next to the bed. He silently watched his father and wondered what John thought of him. He always tried so hard to make his father proud and letting himself get kidnapped by Wally… He didn't want to think about what happened inside that room.

Not for the first time, he wished Sam hadn't gone off to school. He was proud of his younger brother and secretly happy he had the courage to live his own life, but Sam understood him in a way that John never could. It wasn't really John's fault; brothers had a relationship different than parents and their children. Sam probably wouldn't have needed Dean to say much at all. Somehow, he would have understood with only the exchange of a look. He sank further into the pillow under his head, trying to imagine what would be happening if Sam was here.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John opened his eyes. It took him a moment to realize where he was, but as soon as he did, he leaned forward to look at his son. Dean appeared to be sleeping peacefully. John touched his hand, hoping not to wake him.

There were a lot of things he felt guilty about. He never intended to miss his boys' childhoods while hunting demons, ghosts and other supernatural beings. He never thought that it would take more than twenty years to find what took their mother. He never wanted to alienate his younger son. But what he felt right now went so far beyond the guilt he felt about those other things. He not only let Dean down, he put him in danger. Worse yet, he let Wally get away with something all those years ago.

It took him a long time to forgive himself for taking his eyes off of Dean at that park. If it had been more than a few minutes, Wally would have done a lot more to the young boy than talk to him. John's only thought at the time was getting his boys out of the park and to the safety of their small, run-down apartment. Dean didn't talk for days.

John went back to find Wally, but he'd already moved on. It was Jim who convinced John that, no matter how bad Wally was, it would be wrong to kill him. Their job wasn't to bring justice to human beings; there were already systems in place for that. They possessed a special knowledge that most people didn't have and they, and people like them, were all that stood between evil and innocent people. They had to use their skills for that and let this world take care of the evil humans.

It didn't take long for their paths to cross again. Caleb brought John in on a job to get rid of some pretty nasty poltergeists in an elementary school. Wally was the head custodian and the person who contacted Caleb about the haunting. They had known each other for years, though Caleb had no idea what Wally did with his free time. All he knew was that Wally had connections to some pretty nasty people, as well as access to often extremely useful information. Once John told Caleb what his contact was really like, they formulated a plan to deal with the situation.

Caleb had his own connections to the seedy human element. Even criminals possess a code of ethics and child molesters were not looked upon kindly. All he had to do was drop a few rumors and the rest took care of itself. John felt a little like that was the coward's way out, but Caleb and Jim convinced him otherwise. Wally ended up in jail on some minor charge and was rendered incapable of physically molesting children by his fellow inmates. He never connected what happened to him to John or to Caleb.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John was standing at the window, watching the sun rise, when he heard Dean's breathing become labored. He turned his attention to his son. Dean's head was turning from side to side and he began to moan quietly. He was mumbling before John made it to his bedside.

"Dean, wake up." John said gently, placing a hand on his chest.

His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, but John held him down. "Easy, Dean. It's okay, it was just a dream."

Dean lay back against the pillow, closing his eyes and trying hard to calm his breathing. Even slight movement caused him distress and nearly sitting up had given him an entirely new level of pain. John took a cloth from the bedside table and wiped away the sheen of sweat on Dean's forehead. Then he poured water into a cup and handed it to his son, helping him to sit up so he could drink.

"Better?" John asked a moment later when Dean handed back the cup. He nodded and closed his eyes.

"Are you in pain?" John asked, wiping his forehead again.

Dean didn't respond.

"I know what you're doing." John said soothingly. "You've done this ever since you were a little boy. When something hurts you too much, you stop talking. You try to deal with it inside, I guess."

John sat down next to the bed. "You didn't talk for months after your mother died. There were other times, too. Maybe you think I didn't pay attention, but I did."

Dean turned his head away from his father and John put a hand on his arm. "I know I haven't always been the best father. I guess there were a lot of times you probably felt like you didn't have a father. But, Dean, I – I hope you never questioned my love for you and your brother."

Dean tried to hide it, but John saw the small tear that rolled down his face.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Well, hello there."

Ellen wasn't normally surprised by things, but finding someone in the hotel suite she'd just rented surprised her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to hide her shock.

_He_ smiled. "Don't you know I'm always here? There's nowhere you can go that I can't find you."

She returned the smile and sat down on the couch. "What can I do for you?"

"You took the boy back." it wasn't a question.

"I did. But you must already know that."

"You're right. I do."

"Are you going to tell me why you're here?"

"I don't like loose ends."

Ellen looked at _him_. "What?"

"You heard me. You didn't think you'd make it out of this alive, did you? I mean, you did a great job for me. You did everything I asked, but let's be reasonable here." _He _grinned. "You know what my favorite part was? That spell you cast to make everyone in the town who saw the van forget about it. That was cool. Really messed with Winchester."

"Who the hell do you think I'm going to tell about this?" Ellen asked.

"Gee, I don't know. You might have a change of heart and tell Winchester what you know. Granted, you don't know one-tenth of what's going on here, but I don't like to take chances." _He _grinned again. "What do you think you're doing?"

Ellen was sitting on the couch, not moving and trying to keep eye contact. She was a powerful witch and could cast spells without a lot of the props that those with lesser abilities needed. But she was no match for a demon.

_TBC_


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not gettin' paid for this._

_A/N: This is a pretty short chapter, but some important things are made more clear. At least I hope they are. Thanks for the reviews and the private messages. I haven't thanked Kelli in a while publicly, but she's going above and beyond lately. She's reading my stuff while getting ready for a major move – her husband got a new job so off they go to a new state._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 9**

_He _smiled at Ellen, amused that she would try to use her powers against him.

"You're kidding, right?" _he _asked. "You're seriously trying to cast a spell? Have you no idea what I am?"

Ellen found herself held on the couch, unable to move. _He_ stood in front of her.

"Do you really think the body that stands before you is mine? I don't _have_ a real body; I merely possess them when I need corporeal form. If you hurt this body, I simply move on to the next one."

"What was the point of having me do all that work to get his son, only to let him go?" Ellen asked, hoping to stall until she had time to find a way out of the hotel suite.

"You have that figured out." He looked at her, becoming bored. "Yes, I can read your thoughts. And you thought it yourself; I did it to hurt John. I have plans for his sons, especially the youngest one, and John has interfered at every step. He's making things much harder than they need to be."

"Why don't you just kill him?"

"That would create more problems than it would solve." _he _said mysteriously. "So I take every opportunity to hurt him. The boy had to go back to him, relatively unharmed, to satisfy what I will need him for later."

"What do you have against John Winchester?"

_He_ looked at her curiously. "What do I have against him? He's trying to destroy me. I find that irritating."

"What did you do to him?"

"He doesn't need a wrong done against him to have a vendetta. You're the one who calls him a Boy Scout, so you should understand that." _He _said, then sighed. "But in this case, he does have a reason. I killed his wife."

Ellen's eyes widened.

_He_ grinned. "So now you understand."

Ellen realized she had lost total control of the situation, if she'd ever had any. She knew now she never should have gotten involved in something she didn't totally understand; especially when she had nothing to gain from her involvement. She had nothing against John Winchester. At the very least, this arrangement would get her a very powerful enemy. At the worst…

"So, back to not liking loose ends." _he_ smiled. Before Ellen knew what was happening, invisible hands pulled her from the couch and pushed her against the wall. Impossibly, she floated to the ceiling and the last thing she saw before bursting into flames was the demon looking up at her and smiling.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean was taken out of his room for a battery of tests the doctor wanted run before agreeing to release him. John sat in a corner of the hospital cafeteria with Jim; they had gotten a call from Caleb earlier and were waiting for him to join them.

John was struggling; part of him wanted to play the part of the concerned father and stay close to his son. Another part of him wanted vengeance against the man who dared hurt his boy. Jim didn't think he would be able to talk John out of hurting him like he'd been able to years before. Generally, John was a principled man and hurting humans was not something he easily would do. But in his mind, Wally was no longer human.

Jim looked toward the door when he saw Caleb enter. He looked as tired as they all felt.

"How's Dean?"

"The doctor says he'll be fine." John began, staring into a cup of coffee he had yet to touch. "He wanted to run some tests before signing the release papers, but he thinks I'll be able to take him home this afternoon."

"That's good."

"Did you find Wally or Ellen?" John asked.

"Yes and no. I've got a virtual army out looking for Wally. He won't be able to hide forever. Ellen, though –" he looked at John. "Ellen is dead."

"What happened?" John asked, finally looking up.

Caleb glanced at Jim. "She rented a suite in the Galaxia Hotel late last night."

"And?" John prompted.

Caleb looked into his eyes. "There was a fire in the hotel."

"A fire." John said, numb.

"It started in her suite." Caleb said. "It's not like anything the firemen had ever seen."

"What are you saying, Caleb?" John knew, but needed to hear the words.

"She was killed by the same thing that killed your wife."

John rubbed his face. "Does this mean she was working with it, or against it?"

"I don't know. But I can't imagine the thing would rip your family apart and then get angry when someone else wanted to cause some trouble for you."

"We don't know that for sure." Jim said.

"We have to find Wally." John said, about to stand.

Caleb placed a hand on his wrist. "You need to stay here with Dean. I'll find Wally."

"I'm not going to just sit by while you –"

"Let me do the leg work. I'll find him, then bring you in."

John looked uncertain.

"Your son needs you, John. Stay with him."

They looked at each other.

"Wait a second." Jim said. "What is it that you two are planning?"

"What we should have done before." John said.

"No, I can't allow that."

"It's not up to you." If John wasn't his friend, Jim would have been frightened by the steely look he received.

_TBC_


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not gettin' paid for this._

_A/N: We're about ready to wrap this up. One, maybe two, more chapters should do it. I hope you like where we're going and thanks for sticking with me._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 10**

Wally heard about the fire and somehow knew Ellen was dead. He had no idea who Ellen had been working for, but he had no doubt it was someone more powerful than she. That idea made him very nervous because he knew how powerful she was and he was afraid he would be next.

He'd driven until after the sun was up and was now back at the house where he had held Dean captive. He thought he'd be safe there, at least for a little while, because Ellen put a protection spell on it so John and his friends wouldn't be able to find them. He paced, rubbing his face, thinking about his options. There were precious few of them and he was starting to panic.

If he'd been thinking more clearly, he wouldn't have been hiding in the exact place he could be found by what killed Ellen.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John agreed to stay behind, but only because Caleb promised he would call as soon as he found Wally. He avoided Jim's gaze until the pastor decided to go to the Galaxia Hotel, hoping to find some useful information. Waiting in the Dean's room, John thought about everything that had happened in the last few days.

John still believed that it wasn't his job to deal with evil humans, but he couldn't let someone hurt his son and get away with it. Maybe if he'd dealt with Wally in some other way all those years ago, things would be different today. Wally was bad before he'd gotten sent to prison, but he came out with a whole new level of evil and John couldn't help but feel responsible for that. He knew that Wally's attention had turned from children, but he still felt bad for the adults Wally must have hurt.

He thought about his younger son and hoped he was safe. Caleb told him some of their friends were keeping an even more watchful eye over him, and although John spoke to one of them earlier, he still felt uncomfortable. Not for the first time, he wished he'd handled things differently with Sam. He'd always been so different from his brother; always wanting to know why and questioning everything. Dean was just as smart as Sam, but he was willing to take his father's orders at face value, believing that John knew what was best for them. John used to believe he did know what was best, but since Sam left he questioned that. He felt completely incompetent right now; having let Wally outsmart him.

After Jim left, and before John returned to Dean's room, he'd gone to visit Michael Barrett. A nurse told him his condition was worsening and they'd yet to diagnose the problem. That was something else John felt guilty about. If he'd figured things out sooner, maybe he could have saved him.

John stood up when the hospital room door opened and an orderly pushed Dean's wheelchair in. He helped his son back into bed, noticing that Dean refused to meet his eyes. He still hadn't spoken. A lunch tray was brought in a moment later, but Dean ignored it.

"Dean," John said sitting on the edge of the bed. "you should try to eat something. You know as well as I do that doctors like to see that kind of thing."

Dean turned his face away from his father. John hesitated a moment, then put his hand on Dean's leg. "Okay, Kid, here's the deal. I know you hate hospitals, but they're not going to release you if you're not eating and not talking. I also know you've been through something awful and I want to talk to you about it. More important, I want _you _to talk to _me _about it."

Dean didn't turn his head, but John saw him blink slowly.

"I have some news about Ellen." John said after a moment. "She's dead."

Dean looked at him.

"And Caleb is out looking for Wally." he felt Dean stiffen. "As soon as Caleb finds him, he's going to call me. I'm not going to let him get away with what he did."

Dean closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillow. He put his hand on top of John's and after hesitating a moment, John enclosed Dean's hand in his.

"I'm proud of you, you know."

Dean squeezed John's hand, but his eyes remained closed.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Caleb stood next to the van that Wally had left in the parking lot, talking to one of his contacts. The van had been examined from one end to the other and only one potential clue was found. A piece of paper with directions written on it, was lying crumpled under the driver's seat.

"It's in the middle of nowhere." Caleb said as they consulted a map. "I'll bet it's where they were holding Dean."

"Are you going to call John?"

Caleb thought about it. "Let's check it out first. It's a long way out there and he needs to hang with his kid."

"Dean okay?"

"Physically, he will be. Otherwise?" Caleb looked at him. "I don't know."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Wally jumped at every noise and, out in the middle of a forest on a windy night, there was a lot of noise. He cowered in a corner, then moved to the couch, then moved the kitchen and paced. Finally, convinced he was about to be attacked he raced out of the house and ran right into Caleb. The other man pinned Wally's arms behind his back and thrust him back into the house. He pushed him onto the couch and stood in front of him, flanked by six other men who were all holding guns.

"Hi, Wally. Even with the directions we found in your van, we had a hell of a time finding you. Glad to see we didn't miss you."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Jim poked around the hotel as much as he could, but didn't get any useful information. He knew several of the fire investigators who were still on the scene, but he already knew what they had to tell him. No one understood how the fire could start on the ceiling of the suite, but everyone was happy that the hotel was completely evacuated and there was only one casualty.

With Ellen's death confirmed, Jim made a phone call to one of the witches they'd talked to before and arranged for him to work on removing the curse from Michael Barrett. Ellen was no threat any more and he was anxious to repay Jim for a favor he'd owed the pastor for years .

OOOOOOOOOOO

"I have a little bit of unease about this, but I am going to release Dean." the doctor told John later, outside Dean's room. "All the test results came back within normal ranges. I would have preferred to see him eat more lunch, but under the circumstances -- once you get him settled at home, try to get him to eat. He's not going to heal if he doesn't have the fuel to do it."

John watched as the doctor made a few notes in Dean's chart.

"I'm also going to give you the card of a psychologist. I know Jim very well and I know he's an excellent counselor, but he may be too close to Dean to be truly effective. Give this man a call if you can't get Dean to talk to you soon. If he keeps what happened to him bottled up inside, it's likely to manifest in other ways."

"I understand." John said.

"Good. The paperwork will be ready in a little while and you'll be able to take him home."

John nodded. "Thanks."

OOOOOOOOOOO

John was driving to Jim's house when his cell phone rang.

"Where are you?" Caleb asked.

"Dean's been released and I'm taking him to Jim's house. You find something?"

"I did, indeed." Caleb sounded smug. "I'm bringing you a present."

"What do you mean?"

"I found him, John. I'm bringing him to you."

"I'll meet you somewhere." John said. "I don't want him –"

"Got ya. I'll call you when we get there. It will be about a couple hours or so."

"Thanks, Caleb." John glanced to his side as he hung up. Dean was looking at him.

"Caleb found Wally."

Dean turned his head to look out of the passenger side window.

He wanted to talk to his father, but he didn't know what to say. When John said he was proud, Dean felt like screaming. What could he possibly be proud about? That Dean had let himself be kidnapped and tortured? Now Caleb was bringing Wally back to town and Dean knew that John would go off to do something that Dean should have been able to do himself.

John parked the car as close to the door as he could, then followed Dean into the house. The boy slowly lowered himself to the couch. He was in more pain that he would admit.

"Do you want something to drink?" John asked.

Dean shook his head.

"Something to eat?"

He shook his head again.

Jim walked in a few minutes later to find the Winchesters dozing on the couch and the sight warmed his heart. He loved these people like family and he enjoyed having them in his house. He also enjoyed seeing moments of tenderness between John and his son. He'd tried so hard to convince John to be a father first, but the man had his own ideas about raising his sons. Jim understood those reasons, but still thought he was wrong.

Wanting them to sleep, Jim quietly made his way upstairs.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Caleb took Wally to a house across town from Jim's and the church. Sometimes he needed a safe place to stay, and when he couldn't involve Jim, he would stay there. John had used it on occasion, as well. He tied Caleb to a wooden chair that he moved to the center of the living room. He was sure Wally wouldn't have the skill to get away, but wanted to keep everything out of reach just in case.

"Watch him." Caleb told Alex, someone he often worked with. "I'm going to call John."

Alex nodded.

Caleb stood on the porch and dialed Jim's home number. He leaned against the closed door, exhausted and ready for some sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in bed.

"Hello?"

"Jim, Caleb. John get there okay?"

"Yeah. He's asleep on the couch with Dean. You got Wally?"

"I do."

"Caleb –"

"I know what you're going to say. It's wrong to kill him. It's wrong to hurt him. Whatever. You can't deny John this."

"No, I can't. You know as well as I do that John Winchester does what he wants to do. I just think that, down the road, he's going to regret this."

"Wally isn't an innocent man."

"I realize that, but didn't we decide a long time ago that dealing with guilty people is not what we do?"

"We did decide that, but this is personal."

"It's still wrong, Caleb."

Caleb sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Let the justice system deal with him."

"Dean is supposed to press charges? That's not likely."

"You're probably right." Jim admitted. "He's just as likely to take a few swings at the man as his father is."

"So?"

"I've voiced my opinion. I'll talk to John again, but I doubt it will do any good."

"You know what? We could all use some rest. Don't wake John. I'll call back later."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"No!" Dean yelled as he sat up quickly. He immediately regretted the movement as pain pierced every part of his body. John was awake and reaching for his son as soon as he heard his voice.

"Dean, it was a dream." John said, helping him sit back down. He curled up, hugging himself.

"I'm going to get your medicine. I'll be right back." John stood up, but Dean grabbed his wrist. John looked at him, surprised, then sat down next to him. "Dean?"

Without a word, Dean leaned against his father. John put an arm around his shoulders and held him gently, trying not to cause him any more pain.

"It's okay, Dean. I promise you, it's going to be okay."

Jim ran down the stairs, but stopped when he saw the scene on his couch. John looked at him, gesturing for the medicine bottles on the coffee table. Understanding, Jim read the labels and chose the right pills. He went to the kitchen for water, then sat on the coffee table across from his friends. Dean was shaking, but he took the pills handed to him and was able to hold the glass of water. John kept his arm protectively around his shoulders.

_TBC_


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not gettin' paid for this._

_A/N: This is pretty much the end, but there's one more chapter to come. I've done something that I don't think most people were expecting here, but I hope you don't mind. I honestly do think it works. Feedback is so very welcome. Thanks to Kelli for reading this on the road._

**Scars from the Past**

**Chapter 11**

While Caleb slept, Alex watched over Wally. He wasn't sure of the entire situation, but all he needed to know when Caleb called was that the Winchesters were involved. Like Sam and Dean, Alex grew up knowing about the supernatural and, although he was ten years older than Dean, he felt a special connection to the brothers.

Wally glanced at Alex, who was sitting on a chair across the room. Alex was staring at him with a rifle resting between his legs. Wally tried to hold his gaze, but looked away quickly.

"I know about you." Alex said. "You're quite a piece of work."

Wally said nothing.

"You were pretty stupid to get involved with Ellen, but even more stupid to go against John Winchester. What did you get out of this?" Alex smiled. "It doesn't really matter because John's going to tear you limb from limb. It's stupid to try to do something to him, but it takes a special kind of dumb to go after one of his kids."

Wally licked his dry lips and Alex smiled. "Scared? You should be."

Caleb stood just outside the living room listening to Alex bait Wally. He thought about intervening, but could think of no good reason to rescue Wally. Instead, he went back to the bedroom to call Jim's house.

Jim heard the phone ring. He glanced at John, who was still holding his son, and left the room to answer the call.

"You guys awake over there?" Caleb asked.

"Yeah. Dean had a nightmare and John is taking care of him. Are things okay there?"

"Fine. Wally's scared enough to shake out of his skin. When do you think John's gonna be able to get over here?

"I don't know. I don't think Dean is doing particularly well."

"Damn." Caleb sighed. "You know who he really needs, don't you?"

"Yeah. Sam. You think that's going to happen?"

"Not if no one tells him what's going on. Look, I'm going to head out for some food. I've got Alex on Wally. You need anything over there?

"No, thanks. We're good. Are you going to call Sam?"

"Maybe."

OOOOOOOOOOO

John helped Dean to bed, then watched him fall into a fitful sleep. He wanted to stay with Dean; he felt it was important to be with him when he woke up again. But he also wanted to deal with Wally. He knew Dean would be safe with Jim, might even prefer to be with him, but John couldn't force himself leave.

Stepping out of the bedroom, John called one of the people who was watching over Sam and was relieved to hear that things were fine in California. Sam was going about his day, attending classes and talking to his friends. He had lunch with a pretty blonde girl that he'd been seen with often lately. John thought about calling him, but didn't think Sam would answer the phone if he knew the call was coming from his father. He considered using Dean's phone so his number would come up on the caller ID display, but he didn't want to find out that Sam wouldn't answer his brother's call either.

Finally able to pull himself away from Dean, John joined Jim in the kitchen. They silently shared a small meal, neither one able to remember when they last ate.

"Jim," John said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I know you don't approve of me dealing with Wally –"

Jim looked at his friend. "You're right, I don't approve. But I understand."

John was surprised.

"I've had some time to think and I realize there's too much risk in letting the system handle Wally. I still think you're going to eventually regret killing him, though."

Jim watched as John thought about what he'd just heard.

"Maybe there's another option."

"Like what?" John asked.

"Let him go."

The men turned toward the entry to the kitchen, surprised to see Dean leaning against the frame.

"Dean!" John rushed toward him, helping to steady him and get him into a chair. Dean didn't take his eyes off of his father. Jim put a glass of water in front of him.

"Let him go, Dad." Dean said quietly.

"Dean –"

"I don't care if you beat the living hell out of him, but it would be an easy out for him to die. If you let him go, he'll have to look over his shoulder forever." Dean looked at his father, his eyes pleading. "Please, Dad. I don't want this on your conscience. Jim's right; you'll end up regretting it if you kill him."

John laid a hand on Dean's wrist. "That's what you want?"

Dean nodded.

"I won't let him go Scot-free."

"Good."

John moved his chair closer to Dean and leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. He put a hand on the back of Dean's neck. Jim eased out of the room.

"I'm sorry, Dean." John whispered. "I'm so sorry I screwed up and you had to pay the price."

Dean closed his eyes, but laid his hand on John's wrist.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Caleb waited at the fast food drive through window as his order was filled. He tapped the steering wheel, trying to decide if he should call the youngest Winchester. It's not like Sam would be able to leave school in the middle of a semester, but if he knew what was going on he could at least call Dean. Caleb knew that John was unsure if Sam would be there for his family, but what John didn't know is that Caleb was in fairly regular touch with Sam. He didn't want to hear a lot about what his family was doing and never had a message for either of them, but he always asked about them. Caleb saw the sadness and loss in Sam's eyes every time they were face-to-face and he decided it was long past time for someone to intervene.

He drove back to the house and after he and Alex ate, Caleb gave Wally a now cold hamburger. He was about to dial Sam's cell phone number when he heard a knock at the door.

"Hey, John." he heard Alex say from the living room.

"Hi, Alex." John stared at Wally. "Thanks for helping out with this."

"No problem. Anytime."

"John –" Caleb said walking into the living room.

"I need to talk to you in the other room."

In the bedroom, John paced for a moment before he leaned against the wall.

"Dean doesn't want Wally to die."

"Excuse me?"

"He thinks it would be an easy out for him."

Caleb looked thoughtful. "The boy has a point."

"He's okay with me beating the hell out of him, though."

"You okay with that?"

"Beating the hell out of him?"

"Not killing him."

John nodded. "It would go against what we agreed to when we formed our little band of warriors. It would also go against what Dean wants."

"Do you want me and Alex to leave you alone with him?"

"Let Alex go. I think I'll need you to stay here in case I have a hard time stopping before I beat him to death."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Are you doing okay?" Jim asked Dean as he joined him in the living room.

Dean nodded.

"That was a good thing you did, Dean; telling your dad not to kill him. I'm sorry for what he did to you, but that wouldn't be right."

Dean nodded again as the telephone started to ring. Jim left the room to answer it, returning a few minutes later.

"Dean," he held out the receiver. "It's for you. It's Sam."

Dean looked at the phone, afraid to touch it.

"It's your brother, Dean." Jim said gently.

Slowly, he reached for the receiver and watched as Jim left the room. He waited a moment, more nervous to talk to his brother than he'd been about anything else for a long time. Finally, he put the receiver to his ear. "Sammy?"

"Hey, Dean." Sam said, sounding nervous himself. He hesitated. "I know what happened. Well, not everything, but I – are you okay, man?"

"Sammy –" Dean didn't know what to say.

"You need a lot of sleep and you better be taking the pain medication and antibiotics. I know how you are about that. And you need to eat, too – you're not Superman, okay?"

"I know." Dean said, quietly.

"I'm sorry I'm not there, but you have to talk about what happened. Dad will listen, in his own way. But you know Pastor Jim is great to talk to. I know you don't like talking when you're hurt, but it really will help. The nightmares will stop."

"How'd you know about the nightmares?" Dean whispered.

Sam hesitated. "I just know. Look, man, I know it's not good between us right now. I know it's worse with me and Dad, but you're going to need to recuperate before you can hunt again. Maybe you – maybe you and Dad can come out to California."

Dean's eyes filled with tears. "I'd like that, Sammy."

"I need to go, Dean, I have to meet a study group in a few minutes. I'll call again, tomorrow okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"If you – uh – if you need - if you need me, just call, okay?"

Dean didn't trust his voice to speak.

"If you can't sleep tonight – "

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean said, his voice cracking. "Look, uh, Sam – I – uh --"

"Yeah. Me, too, Dean.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John paced in front of Wally, holding an ice pick in one hand.

"I'll ask you again, who was Ellen working for?"

Wally was sweating; he was breathing hard and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I swear! I don't know! She was paying me a lot of money; I didn't ask questions."

John stared at him, still pacing. Caleb sat on a stool across the room.

"What do you know?" John asked.

"Just what I've told you. I didn't even know Ellen; she contacted me out of the blue. It was a lot of money, man."

"And a chance to get back at me."

Wally nodded.

"So what do you think I'm going to do to you for hurting my boy?"

Wally was shaking too hard to speak. He couldn't take his eyes from the ice pick.

"I could always do to you everything you did to him. How does that sound?" John rested his hands on the arms of the chair, staring into Wally's eyes. "Would you like me to do that?"

Wally shook his head. "No, John, please."

"Please?" he laughed angrily. "You're begging for your lousy life?

John stood up and went back to pacing. "Where's the money?"

"What?" Wally asked.

"The money Ellen promised you. Where is it?"

"She died before she could give it to me."

"Whatever it was that killed her will probably be after your sorry ass." John said, touching Wally's cheek with the ice pick. "Because you know what? I'm going to let you go. My son, the boy you tortured, is such a good person that he doesn't want you to die."

"John, please –"

John ran the ice pick down Wally's cheek, leaving a trail of blood.

"I'm going to let you go because that's what my son wants. But don't think you're off the hook. I'm going to be watching you and you'll never know when I'm going to pop up. You know I have the resources to do that. And if the thing that killed Ellen gets to you – less work for me."

Wally began to whimper.

John nodded to Caleb, who came forward to cut away the ropes that held Wally to the chair. Wally didn't move.

"Remember, Wally, I'll be watching." John plunged the ice pick through his hand, pinning him to the chair. Wally screamed and after watching him for a moment, John turned away.

OOOOOOOOOOO

John drove around for a while before returning to Jim's house. He realized that no matter how he handled the situation with Wally, he wasn't going to feel any better. Killing Wally wouldn't have healed Dean's injuries any faster or made the nightmares stop any sooner. His death wouldn't have helped Dean in any way. Letting Wally go felt somewhat unfulfilling; though he did like the idea of Wally always having to look over his shoulder.

Back at Jim's, he found Dean dozing in a chair on the deck and didn't have the heart to wake him. John watched him for a few minutes, then went to look for Jim. He was in the office where he was working on his Sunday sermon. John walked into the room and sat on the couch; Jim turned from his desk and waited for his friend to say something.

"He's alive."

"Are you all right?"

John leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "I'm fine. It's what Dean wanted."

"Dean got a phone call earlier." Jim said, nonchalantly.

"From?"

"Sam."

John sucked in a breath. "Sammy called?"

Jim nodded.

"Huh. Well, I'm glad." John said, intentionally not asking any questions.

"Sam opened the door, John, you –"

"He opened the door to Dean. If Dean wants to walk through it, he can."

Jim sighed. "So how badly did you hurt Wally?"

"Not as bad as he deserves."

"Where's Caleb?"

"I don't know, but he said he'd come by tonight."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"That was a good thing you did." Jim said to Caleb later, after they all had dinner together. John was outside with Dean, giving Jim the opportunity to talk to Caleb in private.

"What's that?"

"Calling Sam."

Caleb looked at him as he shifted on the couch. "I didn't call Sam. I was going to, but didn't get the chance."

"Of course you did. That's why he called Dean today."

"Sam called?" Caleb leaned forward and put his beer on the coffee table; he looked thoughtful.

Jim looked at him, disbelieving. "You're pulling my leg, right?"

Caleb shook his head. "No. I didn't call Sam. Did you talk to him?"

"Yeah. He said he knew Dean had gotten hurt – I didn't ask any questions because I assumed you talked to him."

"No. It must be –"

"It must be what?"

Caleb shook his head. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

"It's just – I think – " Caleb stood up and paced. "I think Sam might be developing some psychic abilities. He hasn't said anything, but there's something about him. I don't know."

"You think that's how he knew about Dean?"

"Did you tell him?"

Jim shook his head.

"Neither did I. And I doubt that anyone else told him. If someone had, he would have mentioned it."

"Maybe." Jim said thoughtfully. "This puts a different light on things."

Caleb nodded. "He'll tell us when he's ready. Maybe he doesn't even realize it yet."

Jim sat back in his chair and sighed. "You could be right."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean stared at the yard beyond the deck where he sat with his father. It was getting dark and the breeze had picked up; soon it would be too cold to sit outside. He wanted to ask John what happened with Wally, but at the same time he didn't want to know. He had no doubt that his father did as he asked and that Wally was walking around free somewhere, but he wasn't sure he wanted the details just yet. He thought maybe some day he would take his own revenge on Wally, but that idea hadn't fully taken shape.

He was liked the attention he was getting from John and he enjoyed the times they just sat quietly together. They were together a lot, but it had been quite a while since Dean felt any closeness to him. He knew John loved him, but he didn't often show the concern that was so obvious now. He felt a little sad it took going through what he did for John to act like a father, but he pushed that feeling aside.

"Dad?" Dean began. He wasn't sure if he was going to ask about Wally or tell John about Sam's phone call.

John nearly jumped. It had been hours since he'd heard his son's voice.

"Yeah?"

"Sammy called today." Dean decided he didn't want to talk about Wally just yet.

"Jim mentioned that." he glanced at Dean.

"He thought maybe you and I could come to California."

"Both of us? Do you want to go?"

Dean blinked back tears. "Yeah."

"Me, too."

_TBC_

_Additional note: A lot of people were hoping for Wally's death and that was the original plan. But after I thought about it a little bit, I realized just what Dean did. Wally's death would be easy. Wally's life is pretty much over now; either the demon will find him, or John will. Frankly, I think I'd be more afraid of John._


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters and, sadly, am making no money from them._

_A/N: Just a little bit to wrap it all up... thanks for sticking with me on this one. Until we meet again... _

**Scars from the Past**

**Epilogue**

Gradually, with the help of his father and brother, Dean returned to normal. He had wanted to get into the car the morning after Sam called, but John insisted they wait a few days until he was stronger. In the meantime, he spent at least an hour on the phone with his brother every night.

The family wasn't completely healed with that trip, but it helped. Dean and Sam spoke often, Sam and John spoke occasionally. Dean was fortunate enough not to run into Wally again, but John made it his business to see Wally frequently.

A few years later, when Dean was working a job on his own, John disappeared. Dean drove to Palo Alto to enlist Sam's help in finding him. A year later, they were still looking for him and working other jobs along the way.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The Winchester brothers walked into yet another motel room, having spent the last few hours searching the woods for whatever had been terrorizing several small towns in the area. Their father sent a text message to Dean's cell phone with coordinates that lead them to the town they were now in, and his journal had an entry detailing strange lights in the woods. After spending the afternoon researching, they spent the evening looking for anything that could help them figure out what was going on.

"Dude, I'm fine!" Dean grumbled as Sam reached out to steady him. "Back off."

Sam smiled to himself and dropped the weapons bag onto the floor. Dean had thought it would be a good idea to get a higher view of the area so, despite Sam's warning, he climbed a tree hoping to see the lights. Unfortunately it rained earlier in the day and his boots slipped on a moss-covered branch. A pile of wet leaves padded his fall, but his shoulder hit a protruding stick that managed to pierce the skin through two layers of shirts.

He stiffly slipped out of the first shirt.

"Your shoulder's bleeding." Sam noticed. "Let me take a look."

"It's fine."

"Let me take a look." Sam insisted.

He took the first aid kit from another duffle bag as Dean pulled the t-shirt over his head. He grunted, tossing it aside and sitting down in one of the chairs. Sam stood behind him and snagged an alcohol swab from the kit. He felt Dean stiffen as he cleaned the wound.

"It doesn't look too bad." Sam said. He reached for the antibiotic cream and bandages, stopping when he saw a scar he didn't recognize. "Dean?"

"What?"

"Where'd you get this?" he asked, touching the back of his brother's arm.

"Get what?" Dean groused.

"This scar?" Sam touched it again.

"You expect me to remember every scar?"

"You have so far." Sam said quietly as he dressed the fresh wound.

"Whatever, Dude."

"Come on, Man. Just tell me." Sam said, sitting across from Dean and looking at him with the patented little brother expression that usually got him his way.

"Fine." Dean growled. "Dad and I had split up to work two small jobs; I was on a poltergeist gig."

Dean told Sam a ridiculous story about having met a sexy woman at a bar after finishing the poltergeist job. It involved handcuffs, whipped cream and candle wax, among other things. Sam begged for him to stop but Dean piled it on, wanting to make sure Sam never asked about that particular scar again.

When Sam went into the bathroom, Dean thought back to when he really got the scar. He remembered talking to Sam about what happened when he was being held by Wally, but he downplayed the injuries because he didn't want his little brother to worry.

Dean heard the bathroom door open and returned to smirking.

"You are so not right." Sam said as he pulled down the covers on his bed. He turned off the light.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam started a few minutes later. Sometimes it was easier to talk in the dark.

"Yeah?"

"I know you're lying."

"Yeah. I know you do."

_Fin_


End file.
